Duped by scenes of blissful motherhood on the silver screen and of course more recently the ubiquitous Facebook, not to mention those countless mothers who make having children seem like a doddle, we have somehow been universally led to believe that being a mother is the most unquestionably heavenly experience in the world.
From the miracle of childbirth to nurturing your helpless little creature into an independent entity, a big hush-hush veil seems to have been conveniently draped over the subject; whilst behind closed doors for many, things are quite different.
I’ve now lost count of the times I’ve marvelled and asked – why are people so reluctant to let on how hard it is? Don’t get me wrong…it is wonderful and beautiful and all of those things but it is freaking hard work, and as one friend put it, like driving into a brick wall at high speed.
My beef is that it seems there is an unspoken rule that the less of the negative stuff passed on about motherhood to your peer group or anyone that asks – the better – and in doing so we are concealing some quite significant truths, facts and experiences which I know for one would have helped me dive into the occasion much more the wiser.
During my first 12 months of motherhood, I spent so many hours trawling forums amongst other bleary eyed, hair tearing and quite frankly, seemingly desperate mums, all asking questions about just what the hell was going on with their little one at that particular moment, most with no answers.
So this is where I hope to share a little of the insight I have garnered on my journey so far, and in future, those of others too. So if you’re sitting there reading this about to tear your hair out, then digesting this might prove a better option. If you’ve never felt in that state, then best give this a miss.